California Dreamin'
by InsertPotterThemedUsernameHere
Summary: Dean, after trying and failing to see Sam for Christmas, sees on the side of the road a 1969 Cherry Red Mustang with its emergency lights on. He decides to check it - and the driver - out. Who knew he'd meet the love of his life on the side of the highway? Dean/Tony, Slash, Pre-Iron Man, Pre-SPN. First Installment of the "Supernatural Husbands" series.
1. First Meetings

**Title: **California Deamin'

**Series: **Supernatural Husbands

**Summary: **Dean, after trying and failing to see Sam for Christmas, sees on the side of the road a 1969 Cherry Red Mustang with its emergency lights on. He decides to check it - and the driver - out. Who knew he'd meet the love of his life on the side of the highway?

**Timeline:** Christmas 2002, Pre-Iron Man, Pre-SPN

**Warnings:** Slash, angst, hurt/comfort, Christmas

**Pairing: **Dean Winchester/Tony Stark

**Author's Note:** Welcome to the first installment of the "Supernatural Husbands" series, which will follow our boys through Avengers. This was originally started on lj in response to the SPN kink meme and was then moved to AO3 since they allow explicit content. My friend encouraged me to post here anyway with this story, so I am; however, the explicit content will be cut and readers referred to AO3 to read it.

Please enjoy!

Chapter One, "First Meetings"

Dean just stared at the building in silence. Sitting lazily in the Impala, he had been parked outside his brother's dorm for hours. Even though it was Christmas Eve, the nature of California weather meant that Dean did not have to leave the engine running and the heat on while he watched his brother's festivities. Yet, he still felt cold on the inside.

When Sam ran away and Dad went ballistic, Dean tried to keep the peace. All it did was cause the two think that he was on the other's side. He could not talk about one in the other's presence without being verbally punished for trying. Yet, even in all that, he never thought that Sam would completely cut off contact from him. This was the first time since the last week of August that he saw his little brother, and Sam –

Sammy looked happy.

Sammy was grinning and eating a feast of 'proper' foods and exchanging gifts and ripping the 'proper' wrapping paper off those gifts and hugging his friends like he could not imagine a better night –

Dean put his forehead into the steering wheel.

He didn't know what he was thinking, thinking he could drop by his little brother's dorm and wisp him off for Christmas. Sammy refused to answer his calls since he ran away and his Dad basically ordered him not to try and visit, but still. He had hoped. He hoped that he would not have to spend this Christmas without his brother.

Dean sighed and decided to try one last time, and he pulled out his cell phone and called speed dial #1.

As the line rang, he watched through the window as Sam reached into his jeans pocket for his cell phone. The younger Winchester took it out, looked at the caller ID, and his face went from laughing to bitchface #21. Dean's heart sank as Sam purposefully refused the call. The ringing in his ear stopped, and Dean was asked to leave a message.

"Hey Sammy – Sam. I just wanted to say – well, Merry Christmas," and before he could say anything about being outside, how the cute blonde kept making eyes at Sam, how missed him, or that his moose sweater was the stupidest thing he had ever seen, Dean hung up.

If Sammy was happier without him, fine. He would let him go. He would be better off without Dean anyway.

So, Dean turned the ignition on and drove away. It would be three years until he would return.

As he drove on the interstate, Dean listened to his old ACDC tapes and tried to put Sammy out of his mind. Then, he saw a '69 cherry red Mustang up ahead on the shoulder with its emergencies on. Needing the distraction – and wanting to check out a car like that up close – Dean decided he would be nice guy and see if the driver needed any help.

And if he got to see check out some nice eye candy as he checked out the 'stang, he wouldn't complain.

Dean parked the impala behind the Mustang and got out of the car. The driver of the car was bent under the hood with his ass in the air. Oh yeah, Dean could tell it was a man, and his cock twitched at the sight.

The eldest Winchester brother had known his was pan-sexual since he met a couple of drag queens on a solo hunt when he was nineteen. They taught him a thing or two about himself: mostly, that he was a slut for just about anyone, whether a girl, boy, ladyboy or any genderfuck in between. Sex was sex, and if it felt good for everyone, then who cared if his partner had a hole or a pole?

Dean licked his lips. A good fuck with that pole would be just what he needed to get his mind off of his otherwise shitty Christmas Eve.

He cleared his throat.

"You need any help there?" Dean called out, as he leaned against the hood of the Impala.

The other man turned his head around, and Dean could finally see the brunette's face: about mid-30s, a mustache and goatee that framed kissable lips, and brown eyes that Dean felt he could fall into. The man opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it quickly. Dean fought a smirk as the other checked him out.

"Not much you could do unless you're a mechanic," the man replied and mimicked Dean's stance as he leaned against the Mustang, making sure Dean could see all of the man's tight body in a rumpled tuxedo. It gave Dean a little thrill of hope that they were on the same page and prompted him to take a chance.

"Well, it's your lucky day then," Dean replied and rolled up his sleeves. He made his way to the car and leaned over the engine examining it.

"She refused to change gears," the man explained and placed his hand on the small of Dean's back. Oh yeah. Same book, same page. "I barely got her to the shoulder and to a stop."

Getting his hands dirty, Dean investigated the transmission. Soon he discovered the problem.

"Your transmission fluid's got the wrong thickness," Dean announced as he stood up and leant back into the hand on his back. Meeting the man's eyes, he continued. "She's been converted from an automatic to manual, so you need a different type of transmission fluid, Type F, I reckon. You'll have to have it towed and get someone to empty this fluid out and put in the right stuff." Glancing quickly at the man's lips and back to his eyes, Dean made his move. "Once the tow-truck comes, I can give you a ride."

"I'm sure you could," the man smirked. "But what kind of ride?"

"Whatever kind you want," Dean replied, wetting his lips, and the man's hand traveled from his lower back to his ass.

"That a promise?" the man said and squeezed Dean's lower cheek.

Dean's response was to raise his eyebrow and take a (clean) finger to stroke the man's beard. He lent in to where their lips were less than an inch away from one another. Their breath mingled.

"Shouldn't you be calling that tow?" Dean said and took a step back with a smirk. As he sauntered his way back to the Impala, he heard the man fumble with his cell phone.

"Pep, I need a tow truck as soon as possible – I don't care if I have to pay triple holiday rates, I need it _now_."

**AN:** I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Please let me know what you think in the comments. See you next time! Love, Insie


	2. First Meetings 2

Chapter Two: First Meetings 2

A tow arrived within 10 minutes of Tony's call, much to his relief. He signed all the paperwork to have the Mustang towed back to his garage and more or less threatened if one scratch was made to her cherry red finish, the driver would get up close and personal with the weapons Tony made for a living. Seeing the fear rightly seated behind the other man's eyes, the billionaire turned his attention to his ride.

The young man was sitting behind the wheel of his Chevy Impala – was it '67 or '68? – basically eye-fucking him.

This was not how he expected his night to go.

Pepper had dragged him to some Christmas Charity Ball that he was _expected _to be at. To be honest, he didn't mind going: not because of the giving to charity (because lets face it, no one in the room actually gave a shit about the less fortunate – they just wanted to show off their status and trophy wives) but rather because he was usually able to pick up some bimbo to sate his needs at these holiday shindigs.

Usually.

He had trained his sights on a blonde bombshell and had put on his usual moves to pick her up. Instead of getting her into his bed, he got her champagne all over his Vivienne Westwood. From that moment, not even Pepper threatening 8AM board meetings could get him to stay at such a farce of a Charity Ball.

He and his Cherry Red were out of there, until even Cherry let him down.

When Tony heard the other car pull up, he was ready to tell them off. He had realized immediately upon inspection of the transmission that Dum-E had given him the wrong transmission fluid when Tony had worked on the Mustang, and not paying attention, the man had used it. However, once he caught sight of the classic muscle car and the young man driving it, especially the posturing the young man was doing, fuck him if Tony didn't play dumb to see what would happen. Tony had been afraid that the other wouldn't know an alternator from a transmission, but to his relief the kid new what he was doing. Both with the car and with Tony.

He couldn't deny that it gave him an ego-boost that a man barely old enough to drink – because damn, he couldn't be more than 22 with such a smooth face and Bambi eyes – was coming on to him. The young man with dirty blonde hair and jade green eyes had the decent muscles of man who worked hard earning a living rather than working out – which Tony was glad for, because Mr. Universe-size muscles always freaked him out – and he was maybe an inch taller than Tony. That was fine by him. Tony liked his men built as such, and this young man was like something out of his wet dreams. Or a porn. Was the kid a porn star or just a natural?

Tony made his way to the Impala with smirk to his lips.

Well, he'd find out soon enough.

Tony opened the door to the passenger seat and slid inside. He faced his new companion. When their eyes locked, there was a moment of stillness as each took the other in, and then in tandem, their lips met. It was a clash of teeth and dominance, and Tony couldn't help but squeeze the young man's thigh. He was like a brick. In response, the man wrapped his arms around Tony's head and stroked and pulled at his hair as he tugged Tony into a deeper kiss, filled with tongue and delicious pressure. In the end, the other man was the first to pull away.

"If we don't stop now, I won't be able to give you any kind of ride," he said, though the stroking he was doing to Tony's hair indicated that he was reluctant in saying it. Tony nodded and pulled out of the man's grasp and laid back in his seat: it was just as well, he was having the same issue.

"So, my place or yours?" Tony asked, glancing over at his companion.

"Well, unless you want to do this at a shitty motel, I'd say yours," the man replied and turned the ignition. He then offered nonchalantly, "I'm Dean by the way. I – I didn't catch your name."

As the car hummed to life, Tony felt a flash of surprise surge through him. How would Dean not know who he was? Was this kid for real or just fucking with him? Tony's face and name was associated with the entire tech his company had to offer, let alone all of his salacious activities documented on the society pages and tabloids. If the kid was indeed fucking with him, he would cut short this little tryst as soon as he got home. Partners intent on fucking with him as opposed to fucking him never turned out well. He didn't need another story of 'My Night with the Merchant of Death' in the _National Enquirer_: they annoy Obi and Pepper too much.

His silence seemed to shake his companion, though he was hiding it beautifully. The only reason Tony himself could tell was because of his own experience with hiding emotions. And the fact the young man's erection, which had bulged so nicely his tight jeans, has obviously sagged.

"Nah, it's cool if you don't – look I'm not some snot-nosed kid expecting a fairy tale," Dean explained. "I'm just old fashioned about my one night stands. I like to have a name attached to person I'm fucking, OK? It's not like I'm going to expect anything more out of tonight than tonight –"

"I get it, Dean," Tony replied. "My name is Stark, Tony Stark." He inspected Dean's face and saw no flash of recognition, satisfaction, or anything other than relief. So, the kid wasn't fucking with him. Tony decided to just be his blunt self and tell the truth. "I just thought you knew you who I was, and that's why you came on to me and offered me a ride."

"Honestly, I thought your '69 cherry red Mustang was epic, and I wanted to check her out," Dean replied, and glanced over at Tony, giving his body a quick look over, and then met his eyes dead on. "And, that the ass attached the man looking under her hood was hot as hell and not something I would pass up on."

Tony could tell Dean was being honest, and he couldn't help but pull him into another kiss. This one was softer than their first and more full of emotion Tony couldn't put his finger on. The base need that had driven the one before devolved into an underlying hunger and passion. Both still had trouble pulling away from it, but Tony needed to catch his breath.

"So you famous or something?" Dean asked, short of breath as well.

Tony laughed and gave Dean a chaste kiss.

"Oh, honey, you have no idea," Tony replied, sinking back into the leather seat. "We'll go back to mine, and I will show you exactly who Tony Stark is."

Dean smirked in anticipation and took the Impala back onto the highway, Tony giving him directions and distractions along the way.

Malibu here they come.


	3. In the Impala

Chapter 3, "In the Impala"

Dean drove as fast as he could while still being safe. Pacific Coast Highway was no joke, and Baby was not going to get a scratch on her because he was thinking with his other head. At the rate he was going, it would take about an hour for them to reach Tony's house.

Still, it was slightly difficult not to speed it up with the way Tony looked, sprawled out and ready for it. Dean never had a thing for tuxes – on him or anyone else – but on Tony? That man could where a tux all day, any day, and it would turn Dean on. When Dean saw that Tony was going to take off his bowtie, he stopped him.

"Leave it on," Dean gruffed, surprising both Tony and himself with the bass of his voice. It paid off though: Tony's hands left his tie.

"Kinky," Tony remarked. Dean only smirked in response.

"So where did you come from that you had to dress all fancy?" Dean asked after a moment.

"A boring charity ball," Tony replied. "I got out of there as soon as I could though. Not my scene."

"Oh?" Dean said, glancing at the tux again. "Seems like you'd fit in."

"They're all fake is the problem," Tony replied and went into a falsetto. "'Oh darling, do they know it's Christmas? I can't bear to think of those starving kids – Oh yes this is the new designer label, cost dear Roger nearly half his expense account, but you know it costs money to look this fabulous!'" Tony smiled as Dean guffawed at his impression, and the older man switched back to his regular voice. "They don't actually give a shit about giving. They give up to 10% only so they get tax benefits and show up to those shindigs to make it look like they empathize with the plight of the underprivileged. It's pathetic."

"Then why do you go?" Dean asked. He really was interested why after that rant the man would be at a ball at all, let alone on Christmas Eve.

"Half because Pepper would kill me if I didn't go," Tony replied, "and half because I can usually pick up a chick at those things."

Dean's grip on the steering wheel tightened and his smiled dropped when he heard Tony mention Pepper. Who was that – his wife, his girlfriend? Dean loved sex, but he had a rule about dating attached people: don't. One angry husband trying to kill him with an axe after finding Dean in bed with his wife had turned Dean off of infidelity forever. However, the younger man was afraid to confront his companion, just in case he heard what he didn't want to hear; because Tony was fucking gorgeous, and Dean wanted to be under him, stripping off that tux, so badly.

However, Tony seemed to notice Dean's reaction and ruined any chance of Dean avoiding the issue.

"What's wrong?" Tony asked and put a hand on Dean's gear shifting hand. "Was it because I said I planned to pick up a chick? Cause I'm bi-"

"No, no," Dean said, and decided he would man-up and ask Tony, even if it meant losing his plausible deniability. "Just – who is Pepper? Girlfriend? Wife?"

"Pepper?" Tony laughed and squeezed Dean's hand. "She's my PA – the best damn one I have ever had. No – I'm completely single, babe."

"Good," Dean responded, relaxing and feeling a weight lifted off his chest. "I'd hate to be a home-wrecker."

"No worries, babe," Tony replied and began to stroke Dean's hand. "The only thing you're going to wreck is my bed."

Dean laughed, and Tony made a face, but squeezed Dean's hand to know he wasn't actually upset.

"Too cheesy?" Tony asked, fake-pouting.

"Just a bit," Dean replied, a smile sticking to his face, and he turned his palm up to link his hand with Tony's. "But I like that."

Dean and Tony continued to hold hands until Dean had to change gears, but even then, Tony kept his hand on top of Dean's.

"So, you know my story," Tony said, breaking the comfortable silence they had fallen into. "Why are you out by yourself on Christmas Eve?"

"It's a long story," Dean said, tensing.

"Well, we still have 45 minutes before we get to my place," Tony replied and stroked Dean's hand. "But, if you wanna keep it to yourself, it's no biggie. As long as you're not a serial killer – you're not a serial killer are you?"

"No," Dean answered, 'though people like to think that,' he thought. As he felt Tony's palm on top of his, warm and comfortable, he couldn't help but spilling it all out.

"I had planned to see my brother, but he – well, we're distant at the moment. He got into college – Stanford – the kid is super smart, but my Dad, he – wasn't happy. It meant that Sam would leave, and ever since my mom died, Dad's been afraid of losing us. They had a huge blowup, said stuff they didn't mean, and Sam ran off. I'm proud of the kid, and I didn't mind him going – even got chewed out for defending him – but all I did was try to explain the old man's thinking to him, and he chewed me out too, claiming I was never on his side. It – it just fucking sucks balls. I've tried calling him, but he refuses my calls –" he paused when he felt he was getting to emotional, but Tony continued to hold his hand, so he continued. "I went by his dorm today and – he was the happiest I've ever seen him. I tried calling him one last time, just to see if he would answer me on Christmas, but he wouldn't. So, I left. Figured if he didn't want to hear from me, he wouldn't want to see me. Then I found you."

"That you did," Tony said, studying the young man.

"Fuck, this is such a chick flick," Dean exclaimed, keeping his eyes on the road. "Shit, I don't even know why I said – look this is not sexy, and I get it if you just want me to drop you off –"

"No, actually, I'm glad you told me," Tony said and pulled Dean's hand to his lips. Dean shivered at the gesture and glanced at his companion. Tony's eyes met his, and Dean could tell the man was being sincere. "I was wondering why such an eligible young man would pull over and put the moves on me, on Christmas. Most people are home with their families or lovers, but you and me – we don't have that, not at the moment. But, I'm glad you pulled over Dean. I find you intriguing and sexy. I'm looking forward to our night together." He gave another kiss to Dean's palm and wrist and then put it back down on the gearshift.

Dean felt lighter than he had in months. With the older man's words and touch – who knew holding hands would feel so good? - he never felt more content.

They drove in companionable silence the rest of the way to Malibu.


	4. First Base in Malibu

Chapter Four, "First Base in Malibu"

When Dean caught sight of Tony's home, he was dumbstruck and looked quickly to Tony. The older man merely smirked, smugness oozing from every pore, and instructed him how to enter his garage. Dean did as instructed, then turned to Tony who put his finger up in a gesture to wait and exited the Impala. The older man made his way to Dean's door and opened it, holding out his hand. Dean accepted and was pulled from the car into Tony's arms. They kissed.

The needy, insistent lust that had been circling between the two of them since they met seemed to have dissipated. What was left was something much more calm than Dean was used to. Tony was tender as he pushed his lips against Dean's, his mouth warm and smooth, soothing Dean's chapped lips. When Tony made to pull away, Dean followed with his mouth, not wanting their connection to end. The other man seemed to understand and continued with his delicious pressure against Dean's lips, bringing his hands up to Dean's head to caress his hair. Dean in turn brought his hands up the man's back, putting his hands under Tony's tuxedo jacket, pushing them closer together. Finally, though, the kiss broke, and both men were left panting, their foreheads touching.

"Let's go inside, hm?" Tony said, and Dean nodded in agreement. Tony took Dean's hand and led him into the house.

Immediately Dean was struck by how shiny everything was. Glass and chrome with marble floors and spectacular views of the ocean. Dean remembered seeing something similar in a magazine once and pointing it out to Sam who merely rolled his eyes and informed Dean it was "modern" as if everyone knew that. It wasn't Dean's fault he had grown up in motels that were all decorated in the 70's with funky wallpaper and carpet and linoleum floors. He didn't say that to Sam though, knowing it would cause the hormonal teenager to only go off on Dad again, and just called him a geek for knowing something like interior design. Dean mentally shook his head to clear it of those thoughts.

He was not going to think about his baby brother when he was about to get laid.

Instead, Dean took in the place. The layout was open, so Dean could see most of the first floor. The furniture was fancy and either black or white. The kitchen was a chrome masterpiece, not to mention an island bigger than the kitchens Dean was used to cooking in. The young man was just mesmerized by the obvious wealth that this house – this _mansion_ – represented. He looked at Tony who was smirking at Dean's gob smacked expression, and Dean couldn't help the words that tumbled out of his mouth.

"Fuck, you're _rich_!" Dean exclaimed, and shut his mouth quickly, his cheeks going red. But Tony merely laughed in amusement.

"Yup," Tony responded, squeezing Dean's hand. "I can tell you all about it later. Fancy a nightcap?"

All Dean could do was nod. He needed a drink.

As Tony poured them both each two fingers of his finest scotch, neat, he shook his head at the unbelievableness – was that a word? Who cares it's now a word in Tony's book – of his night. The kid – Dean – had no idea who he was or why he was rich. Tony had never in his life met someone who did not already know who he was. His reputation, whether it was of his genius, wealth, or way in the bedroom, always preceded him.

For the first time in his life, he was going to make a human connection with a clean slate. All Dean knew was that Tony was rich and famous – and only because Tony told him – but not what for. Tony was excited. Usually his liaisons were rather boring – except for one small thrill (1). Girls and a select few guys who wanted him for his power and status and thought they could get it through getting in his pants would get turned on their head when Tony acquiesced to fucking them only to send them on their way. And although Tony did enjoy the surprised faces of each one when they realized they were not as clever as they thought they were, the mind games did get old after a while. It would be nice to connect with someone without all that baggage.

Speaking of that someone, Tony walked back over to Dean and handed him the glass as he swirled his own. Dean took it, seemed to quickly study Tony's technique, and copied his swirling. As Tony took a sip, he did his best to withhold his smile at the adorableness of the young man: this was obviously is first scotch. In the end, he couldn't contain himself.

"Have you ever drunk scotch before?" Tony asked.

"That obvious?" Dean laughed and took a sip. He sucked in his teeth at the burn and smiled. "Man, that's good. I'd ask what kind, but I'm guessing it costs more than I'd make in my lifetime."

"You'd be right on that, babe," Tony said, and captured the boy's lips with his own again. "But you know what makes it taste better? Tasting it on your lips."

"I can see that," Dean replied, kissing Tony back.

Tony leant into the kiss and wrapped his free arm around the younger man, his hand going underneath layers of flannel to find the warm, hard flesh of the man's back. Dean responded in kind, putting his arms around Tony's neck, one hand holding his glass and one starting to stroke and tug at Tony's hair. The older man moaned at the combination of tongue wrestling and hair pulling, and he began to grind his growing bulge into Dean's. Dean in turn moaned and tugged at Tony's hair more. Reluctantly, Tony pulled away and tried to speak as Dean nipped at his neck.

"We should – fuck – we need to move this – God damn it – upstairs," Tony panted as Dean found that one spot under his ear that drove him wild. "Fuck, you're the best Christmas present I ever got!"

"You say that, and we haven't even got past first base," Dean replied and unwound his arms from Tony's neck.

Tony took both of their glasses, setting them on the coffee table, and grabbed Dean's hand, pulling him in the direction of the upstairs master suite.

"Babe, I've been to plenty of ball games, I can tell this is gonna be a grand slam," Tony said, and Dean laughed again.

"God you're so corny," Dean said, smiling all the same.


	5. Against the Wall and in the Bed

Chapter Five, "Against the Window and in the Bed"

Once they reached the master suite, Dean was again thrown at the luxury of it. Not only was the bed big enough to fit a dozen people but the view was amazing. He let go of Tony's hand and walked up to the glass walls, mesmerized at the ocean view. Dean felt Tony come up behind him and leant back into the older man and sighed in contentment as arms wrapped around him with stroking hands.

"Your house, this view is – amazing," Dean said and turned in Tony's arms, putting his own around Tony's neck again, playing with his hair.

"Thanks, sunshine," Tony replied, stroking up and down Tony's back. "I like the view all the more with you in it."

"You already got me in here, no need to butter me up," Dean said, though his cheeks betrayed him with a blush.

"Not buttering up if it's the truth," Tony said, and leant in for another kiss.

Dean moaned as his cock jumped at the whisker-rough kisses. Although he loved the grand finale as much as any other hot-blooded American male, he was very much a foreplay man. He loved kissing, loved putting his lips to lips, lips to skin. Dallas, one of the drag queens responsible for Dean's awakening, said that he had an oral fixation.

Speaking of oral, Dean decided it was time to get to work. He moved his lips from Tony's and went back to that spot under the man's ear that seemed drive him to distraction moments ago. Encouraged by the moans that emanated from other man and the hands now clutching at his back, Dean began to undo Tony's bowtie and buttons. Dean's lips followed his fingers, kissing and sucking at the newly exposed skin, until he ended up on his knees, un-tucking Tony's shirt from his pants.

*Smut Cut because of policies - please go to AO3 should you wish to see it, but basically, oral sex against the window then rutting and handjobs in bed*


	6. Lust at First Sight, Love at Second HJ

Author Note: Although I am cutting all of the smut, I'm trying to keep Tony's thoughts has he gets Dean off. They are important to the plot.

Chapter Six, "Lust at First Sight, Love at Second Handjob"

It took a few moments for Tony's vision to clear and for him to come down from his orgasmic high, and as soon as he did, he rolled off Dean. The older man landed on his side and pulled Dean with him, so they were both facing each other. Although Tony was probably just as lethargic and boneless as Dean seemed to feel, he couldn't help himself and continued to suck on Dean's neck and lick the already bruising bite mark he left. When Dean seemed to come back to himself, Tony moved his lips to Dean's, kissing him slowly and sweetly.

"Fuck, I don't think I've ever had such fantastic sex without actual fucking," Tony said, in between kisses, and Dean hummed in agreement.

They lazed for another few minutes, just enjoying their post-coital glow and sharing soft kisses. But soon, the evidence of their sex started to cool and dry, so they both got up and went to the shower, Dean only half grumbling about having to get up. Tony pulled him into a walk-in bath, which was twice as big as the ones from the motels that Dean had grown up in, and used a hand held showerhead to wash them off. After they were clean, Tony pressed some buttons that were on shower wall, and the bath started to fill with warm water. The older man had them sit in the warmth back to front, with Dean leaning back on Tony's chest, between Tony's legs.

"Do all rich people's homes have this kind of system?" Dean asked, watching in awe at everything. His face then turned red, realizing he actually said it out loud. But he relaxed when all Tony did was chuckle and kiss his neck.

"I don't know about rich people in general, but all my houses have this system, actually I plan to update them soon with A.I. –" Tony started to explain.

"Wait – houses as in plural?" Dean interrupted, turning his head to look at Tony, and asked, "You have more than one house?" Tony smirked and nodded. "Wow," Dean exclaimed, turning back around and leaning back into the older man's chest. "We didn't even have one house, let alone more than one."

"Where did you live, then?" Tony asked, stroking Dean's chest.

"Well, I guess, to be fair, I lived in a house until I was four, but then it burnt down, and – my mom didn't make it," Dean said, choosing his words carefully. Tony kissed his neck, and Dean continued. "My dad, he – well, didn't take it well would be an understatement. Traveled around the country all the time for various jobs, and we would mostly live in motels or friends' homes for a few weeks before moving on to the next."

"What sort of jobs did he do?" Tony asked, honestly curious. The more he learned about his new companion, the more captivated he was. He'd never really been that interested in a lover's past, but there was something about Dean that enthralled him.

"He's hunter and a mechanic," Dean replied, breaking Tony out of his mental ramblings. "So, we'd move around with the different hunting seasons, and when one wasn't on, he'd fix cars. I've followed in his footsteps, so it's motels for me as well."

Dean felt more comfortable here in Tony's arms than he had anywhere else in his memory. All he wanted to do was tell Tony the truth about everything: his past and the supernatural. He'd never felt this way before, this urge to spill his heart out to a complete stranger. It's as if it was love at first si –

Whoa. That was some heavy thinking. No, there's no way he could be even contemplating the L word – especially with a dude he just met. No, no, no –

"Well, I'm glad he taught you how to fix a car," Tony said, breaking Dean out of his mental panic. "Or we wouldn't have met."

Dean smiled and nodded, turning his head and giving Tony another kiss. He needed to live in the moment he was in, not overthink things. As Tony's hands started to move lower, Dean thought he would get started on that right now.

*Smut Cut because of policies - Tony giving Dean a handjob in the bath and Dean tries to reciprocate, but Tony resists*

"Naw, babe, you took everything out of me the first go around," Tony said, taking his free hand to pinch Dean's nipple, gaining another gasp from the younger man.

It was true, though: while Tony was enjoying pleasuring Dean, little Tony was keeping out of it all. Although Tony at one point could go several rounds every day of the week, that was not the case these days – which was actually fine with him. Sex had gotten so, well, boring lately. It was the same thing, over and over: seduce, put his dick in a hole, get off, kick the person out, and – though he hated to admit it – feel empty inside.

But this, what he is currently doing with Dean, feels completely different. He hadn't come so hard since he was in his twenties – especially without penetration. And after they finished, he didn't want it to end. It was like he immediately became addicted to Dean's touch. He felt a compulsion to hold the younger man and never let go. That's why he decided to take them to the bath and, even though he knew that he couldn't get it up for another hour, continued to touch and stroke at Dean to bring him more pleasure.

Speaking of, Dean seemed to be nearing the edge and grabbed onto Tony's knees, pushing himself back into Tony's chest for more contact. It made the older man smile and sent a thrill of desire through him: seems like Tony isn't the only one who loves their skin-to-skin contact. Tony moved his one hand from Dean's nipple to spread his palm over Dean's heart.

"Just let go," Tony whispered in Dean's ear, kissing it softly. "I've got you."

*Smut Cut because of policies*

It fascinated Tony, to see how much control he had over the man's body, bringing Dean so much pleasure and catching him when he came down from the high. And, how much he himself loved it.

After giving Dean a few minutes to catch his breath and stealing a few kisses, Tony helped the younger man stand and briefly rinsed them clean of the dirty water. Seeing that Dean was still dazed, Tony dried them both off and led them back to the bed. Dean collapsed immediately under the covers, curling in on himself and falling asleep almost instantly. Tony turned out the light and spooned behind him, tangling their feet and hugging Dean to his chest.

Tony was struck by how right this all felt: him holding and embracing Dean after lovemaking. Yes, lovemaking, Tony thought. It was the only word he could attribute to what they had just done. Tony had made love to Dean – not in the traditional way, obviously, but still. It wasn't just sex, so biological sounding and not describing the emotions he felt. And it wasn't fucking, screwing, or shagging; no that was too animalistic. Maybe for the first time in his life, he had made love to someone.

It was amazing, but Tony didn't freak out at this epiphany. Sure, it was a dude he met less than twelve hours ago who was at least a decade younger than him, who drifted around the country, and who seemed to have a lot of baggage – and Tony himself was a notorious commitment-phobe and had his own daddy issues to deal with – and who's to say the kid even feels the same way – Okay. So maybe he should be freaking out. A lot. More like running for the hills. But all Tony felt was calmness and rightness in being with man in his bed.

Fuck, common sense. He was Tony fucking Stark, genius-playboy-billionaire-philanthropist. He could do anything he set his mind to, including falling in lust at first sight and love at second handjob. And when it blew up in his face, he'd drink himself into a stupor as usual. But for the moment, he would hold tight to his young lover and let himself indulge.

"I was right," Tony whispered into the sleeping man's ear. "You are the best Christmas present I've ever had."

And with that, Tony fell asleep, as well, content.


	7. Spooning in the Morning

Chapter Seven, "Spooning in the Morning"

Dean slowly woke up, finding himself wrapped in warmth and comfort. He let himself just bask in it: a warm body wrapped around him, holding him. Eventually, he forced himself to open his eyes. There was some sunlight streaming through the glass walls, which had been completely clear last night but was now tinted, making the morning sun seem like it was only just rising. Dean smiled, appreciating yet another of the cool aspect of Tony's house. His smile dropped, when he remembered it was time for him to leave it.

Slowly, Dean disentangled himself from Tony's grasp, being careful not to wake this bed partner up. Once he was out, he was surprised when he saw the other man grasp and reach out for Dean, so he put his pillow in Tony's arms who then hugged the pillow to his chest. It made Dean smile: the older man looked adorable at that moment, though he's not sure if Tony would like that description.

With one last glance at Tony being a cuddlebug, Dean shook his head and went to the facilities and relieved his bladder. As he was washing his hands, he got a glance at himself in the mirror and stared. With all the hickies and bites circling his neck, it looked like several vampires had mauled him. Not that that could happen in real life: for all the supernatural out there, vampires were hunted to extinction, something Dean was grateful for. There are enough bloodsuckers out there without the originals running around. Dean gently brushed his fingers over the marks, absorbing the pain that contact with bruises made. He'd have souvenirs of this encounter for the next few weeks, by his reckoning.

Dean was glad for it. It would be a nice reminder that someone had claimed him, had pleasured him not once, but twice. He shivered at the memories of last night and glanced sideways at the bathtub. He would never look at baths the same way again. Or Tony for that matter, and he shifted his gaze to his lover.

From his position in the bathroom, Dean could see Tony still sleeping on the bed. Last night was so wonderful – like a dream. Dean wasn't a rookie at one-night stands – to the contrary, at 22, he'd been around the block enough, that he embraced the term man-slut. Yet, last night and this morning, Dean felt something. That was the problem. You aren't supposed to feel anything for one-nighters. One and done is fun and done.

But last night, the way Tony held his hand in the car as Dean opened up about his troubles, the way Tony got him off twice and bathed him, the way Tony cuddled up to him – spooned him! In all his life, Dean had never been the little spoon – with his family or his lovers. He was the big brother and would always spoon Sammy during a nightmare; and the times he slept overnight with a lover, he was always the more forward one, holding them as they slept. It was nice – more than nice. Dean had felt more safe and content in Tony's arms than place in his memory. It made him want to stay, to pursue this relationship –

Which was complete bullshit! Dean thought, closing his eyes and rubbing his scruffy face. It was one night – just one night, not even 24 hours! You can't fall in love with somebody so quickly, right? No, this is real life, not some TV show or movie. Plus, it would never work. He was a hunter and Tony was a – well, he wasn't sure just what Tony was, but the man was rich. Dean had responsibilities, and Tony – Tony could probably have anyone he wanted. He wouldn't want a high school dropout, hunter, and mechanic for a life partner, anyway. Better that Dean left now, before Tony kicked him out. And, if he left now, he could probably get to Las Vegas by early afternoon and con someone into giving him tickets to Siegfried and Roy Christmas Show. He always liked Tigers.

Going back into the bedroom, Dean quietly gathered his clothes from where they were bunched up on the floor near the windows. Slowly he started to dress, but as he was doing up his belt, he realized his attempt at silence was for naught.

"Why are you out of bed, babe?" Tony called from said bed. Dean turned and saw the man had one eye open, squinting. "It's way too early for anyone to be awake."

Dean raised an eyebrow and glanced at the clock to make sure he had the right sense of time. Yep – the digital clock on the nightstand blinked 9:12 at him.

"It's nearly quarter past nine," Dean countered, finishing buckling his belt.

"Like I said – way too early," Tony groaned and then sat up and fully realized what Dean was doing. "Hey, why you leaving so fast, sunshine?"

Dean hesitated, and then thought, what the hell.

"Well, I thought maybe you'd like me to leave," Dean replied, folding his arms across his bare chest defensively, holding his shirts in his hand. "Seeing how it's your house and all. And it's Christmas, I'm sure you have plans –"

"The only plans I have at the moment is more time with you, and I certainly don't want you to leave," Tony responded, and to Dean's surprise the man's cheeks reddened slightly and his eyes looked away from Dean's to the bed. "But, if you want to go, go. I won't stop you."

Glancing at the shirts in his hand and to Tony, who was trying to look nonchalant as he picked at his sheets, Dean paused. It was a bad idea. His brain was already trying to convince him that he had fallen in l- had developed strong feelings for the older man who he barely knew and had just met last night. To protect himself and protect his heart, Dean should say, thanks for the night, it was fun, but time for me to skedaddle. Pronto. And as Dean opened his mouth to do so, other words spilled out.

"I want to stay," Dean blurted, and his heart fluttered when Tony's response was a bright smile and a pat on the bed.

"Well then get out of those rags and under the sheets," Tony said, pulling back the covers. "It's cold without you."

Dean did as instructed, and as he got in bed and hugged Tony, kissing him, Dean knew this would end in disaster. But honestly, snuggled up with his lover, he couldn't give a damn.

**AN**: There we go, end of the first installment of the Supernatural Husbands series! But don't fret - the next fic, "I'm Used to Rose Petals, Not Salt Lines" will start right where we left off. (And just because they both realized they feel something strong for the other, doesn't mean that they are going to admit it easily to each other - This is Dean and Tony we're talking about.)

I hope you enjoyed my story and the way I portrayed our boys. Let me know what you think in the comments. See you next time, Love Insie

**NEXT FIC IS POSTED - LOOK FOR "I'm Used to Rose Petals, Not Salt Lines"**


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